Euphoria
by Marissa
Summary: He finds her and picks up her up. Snape/Hermione. Dark fic. One shot. This contains things that some may not like, see AN at the beginning for warnings.


A little one shot that has been plaguing me. Euphoria doesn't belong to me, I've taken it from Interstate 60 and to state the obvious I am not JKR so I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe.

WARNINGS: This story is dark. Very dark. It contains: abuse (physical, mental and sexual), drug use, prostitution, addiction and mentions abortion. Please do not flame me if you do not like these things in a story, you were warned in advance.

Euphoria

Hermione Weasley lay back on the hard mattress, in her hand was the neon plastic that held the key to slipping away. Using her teeth she ripped at the packaging and then tipped the contents quickly down her throat. The feeling almost instant, her mind began to relax and slip away from the cold harsh reality. A giggle erupted from her throat, it was followed by a laugh, which gave way to fit of hysterics. The world around her dissolved and she slipped away into a blissful state.

-x-

He found her curled up and crying on the stained sheets in her rented room. This was not unusual, but each time it hurt him a little more that he couldn't stop it. He wished she'd stay with him, but she was determined to be independent and strong. The only problem was that she wasn't, she could act strong and pretend but it drained her and each time she fell a bit harder.

He wanted to pour some Euphoria down her throat and take away the pain, but it would only prolong the inevitable. He didn't care to know who had been her latest customer, he'd probably know them well and he was sure that they'd gloat about how far the Gryffindor Princess had fallen.

He scooped up her tiny frame and apparated away from the filth and grime of the tiny box she called home.

-x-

She clung to him, her skeletal arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He could feel her tears drip onto his skin, each one felt like acid. Burning. He placed her in his bed, whispering sweet, calming words (the remnants of an old sleeping spell) and stroking her back gently until a fitful sleep captured her.

He felt responsible. He knew he wasn't, not really. But all the same he felt as if he had some how betrayed her and led her down this path of self destruction. He could blame Weasley all he wanted, but it was own selfish actions that had caused her final decline. She had been fine for months, laughing and seemingly moving on, it had been a lie. Euphoria had crept in and slowly took over, winding it's way around her life, ensnaring her until she had nothing.

Standing, he rolled his head from side to side, loosening the knots that had formed deep in his muscles. He walked to the bathroom, listening to her whimpers as he went. Filling a bowl with warm water and taking a wash cloth he returned. Her hair was splayed on the pillow, a tangled mass of curls. She made him think of a fallen angel. How could he have let this happen?

Placing the bowl on the bedside table, he sighed. Her pale form twitched violently. He knew she would have injuries, she often did, not that she ever noticed. Slowly and methodically, he stripped her of her clothes. He hated seeing her naked these days, but it had to be done. Scars marred her flesh from when he'd been too late to heal them. The worst was still the one caused by Dolohov in her 5th year, but now it blended with the others adding to the pattern that probably told a depressing tale. He set to and began to gentle cleanse the dirt from her. As he washed her he identified the areas for treatment, mentally cataloguing them.

Once clean, or at least cleaner than when he'd begun, he began the physical healing. He'd found scratches and cuts on her back, these were easily healed using his wand. Purple bruising was blossoming on her ribs and jagged hipbones, for these he carefully massaged in a salve, wincing each time she flinched. As always he performed a pregnancy charm, and was relieved that this time, at least, he wouldn't have to curse her to rid her of an unwanted child. He quickly cast a contraception charm, just in case. He slipped his hands between her legs and examined her sex, another healing charm and more salve would take care of most of the injuries. She would still need potions in the morning, he had grown used to this and always kept them to hand to save long nights of brewing when he should be by her side, but largely she was healed. Physically, at least.

He brought his chair over from the corner, along with the blanket, and settle in it for a restless night by her side.

-x-

Her eyes opened and she saw him sat there, watching over her like a protective guardian angel. He'd always been there for her, even before she'd realised it. Even asleep, he looked tired, she wanted to make it better. Euphoria would do that for him, why couldn't he see?

She felt her skin crawl as the lack of the drug truly kicked in. She wanted it, needed it. Her mind screamed, painfully, demanding it be fed the one thing that made everything all right. She knew he wouldn't have any easily accessible for her, but maybe she could persuade him, he was a man after all.

Jerkily, she moved towards him. Her hand slowly reached out, preparing to undo his trousers. He wasn't attractive, that was true, but he wasn't the ugliest she had bedded in order to get a fix. Suddenly, her hand was stilled by a vice like grip. Her eyes drifted from his crotch to his face, where she was met with eyes as black as pitch and a nasty sneer.

"Do you really want to do that, girl?" he snarled.

She chuckled and then moved closer. "Are you saying you don't want me?"

He looked at her, her lips were pouted and her breasts pushed forward. "I don't want you." He spoke the truth, he didn't want her, not like that. He had almost fallen in love with the vivacious bookworm she had once been, almost.

"Are you sure? I want you Sev." She did as well. She loved him.

"Hermione, I said no." She stuck her bottom lip out and rolled on to her back. She needed her fix and the only way she could see to getting it was to either distract him enough to give in to her or to get out. Her hand snaked down her body, her fingers seeking out the part of her that had long since ceased giving her pleasure. She knew how to fake it though.

He didn't give her chance. He gripped her face and forced her to look at him. He was silent for some time, taking in the sad lost woman in front of him, then he spoke. "You need to stop doing this to yourself. It's not real sweetheart, it's all fake."

Her mind crawled, as if her thoughts were trapped in jelly. "I feel happy. Like nothing can hurt me. Please, please give me some. I'll be yours forever. Just don't take me away from Euphoria again."

Her eyes watered, not quite crying. It hurt him to watch her like this. Desperate. "No. You need to stop. It's..."

"It's making me feel better. You don't understand what it's like," she snapped.

He shook his head sadly. "I know what you're going through, you've told me a thousand times."

"I lost everything. EVERYTHING," she shouted before reaching out and soundly slapping him across the face.

He took the pain and waited patiently for her to continue. "You could have made me happy, but oh no. No, you took me and used me like everyone else. He hurt me, but you destroyed me."

"It wasn't suppose to be like that. I..."

"You loved her more than you could ever have loved me," her anger had dissipated, leaving nothing but sadness in her tone. "He screwed her in my bed, then took my children from me. You just never wanted me at all."

"I did..."

"Join me then, we could go to Gringotts and then buy some Euphoria and be happy together." She bounced on the bed grabbing and pulling on her clothes.

"No," he stated firmly. "One day you will see the world as it is and will want to be a part of it again. Until then this is all you shall have."

"Fine, I'll leave." She headed towards the door, then paused and looked back. "Please. Could you give me one last hit and then I..."

"No Hermione. No money. No drugs. No anything."

She screamed, but her desire for a pretty little neon stick was too much, without any further hesitation she walked away. 'I'll never go back to him,' she vowed as she walked away.

As he watched her slip through the door he knew that he would be doing the whole routine again before too long.

-x-


End file.
